Delta Force Die Hard

by Carol Ericson

  “And why is that?” Joe gritted his teeth, feeling the last bit of his patience slip away.

  Joost patted his chest. “Because I have it right here with me.”

  * * *

  HAILEY SLID OFF the arm of the sofa and collapsed against the cushion, the comic books crinkling beneath her. “Why didn’t you say that to begin with?”

  “I didn’t realize you were concerned about what Marten left for you.”

  “That’s why we’re here.” Spreading her arms wide, Hailey kicked up her feet on the messy coffee table.

  Joe held out his hand. “So, what did he leave her? A note?”

  “No.” Joost reached into his front pocket and withdrew something pinched between his fingers. He held it up, and it caught the light from the window and winked. “A key.”

  “A key?” Hailey swung her legs from the table and jumped up. “A key to what?”

  “I don’t know.” Joost bounced the key in his palm before dumping it into Joe’s outstretched hand.

  As Joe studied the key, Hailey sidled next to him, her hair brushing his forearm.

  “Why would he leave me a key without an explanation?”

  “Maybe he was afraid it would fall into the wrong hands.” Joe plucked up the key chain, a cardboard circle ringed with metal. “There’s some writing on this.”

  Hailey squinted at the white circle as Joe held it up. “The letters are rubbed out. Looks like an M, I, S... Trust Marten to leave me a clue that needs another clue to figure it out.”

  “Born mysterious.” Joost tapped the side of his nose. “That label had something written on it in pencil. I may have rubbed it off with a sweaty thumb, or maybe Marten did.”

  Joe ground his back teeth. “Did mysterious Marten tell you anything about this key, like maybe what it unlocked?”

  “Marten told me nothing. He called last-minute, asked if he could crash at my place for a few days, didn’t bring any luggage with him, and I barely saw him. Yesterday morning, he gave me that key and told me to give it to Hailey if he didn’t return. He didn’t return, and I called Hailey at the number he gave me.” Joost held up his hands. “That’s all I know. I’m sure Marten is fine. He has nine lives, like a cat.”

  “Cats don’t swim.” Hailey hitched her bag over her shoulder. “You have my number. Let me know if you happen to hear from Marten.”

  “At least you have the key.” Joost had turned to face his precious computers, his duty to Marten done.

  Joe dangled the key from its key chain. “Yeah, a key to nowhere for Miss Nobody.”

  “If I remember anything, I’ll call you.”

  Joe snapped his fingers. “Did he tell you he also had a hotel room? Maybe that’s why he didn’t have any luggage with him.”

  “Didn’t say anything about a hotel. Maybe he’s holed up there to escape his gambling debts.”

  “Thanks, Joost.” Hailey made a face at Joe and pointed to the sliding door with the square hole in the glass that Joost didn’t seem very concerned about.

  They stepped outside, and Hailey swung around to face him, her eyes throwing sparks. “Why would Marten leave me a key and not tell me what it’s supposed to unlock?”

  “Maybe the name on the key chain would’ve told you if Joost hadn’t rubbed it off with his sweaty thumb.”

  “I’m not sure about that. Really, when was the last time you ever referred to anyone as Miss? Most people, including Marten, use Ms.”

  Joe used Miss a lot, but he probably shouldn’t let Hailey in on that. “Maybe it’s like one of those schools, like Miss Watson’s School for Wayward Boys.”

  Hailey punched him in the arm, and he tightened his bicep.

  “Is that the one you went to?” She rubbed her knuckles.

  “Close to it.” He twisted his lips into a smile. “Are you ready to go home?”

  “I’m ready to locate the owner of this key. What do you think Marten left for me?”

  “Maybe the retraction of his statement to the CIA regarding Denver’s involvement in the Syria bombing, or whatever it was he was going to tell you at your meeting. Sounds like he had a feeling he’d never make it to the meeting.”

  Hailey bit her bottom lip as she put a hand on his arm. “Would you mind coming back to my place with me? Maybe we can figure out this key thing together.”

  “I was going to suggest the same thing.” He didn’t mean to scare her to get the invitation, but that seemed to be the effect of his words.

  “I’ll order a car.” She dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. “Looks like I missed a call from Agent Porter.”

  “Do you want to call him back while we wait for the car?”

  “He left a voice mail.” She tapped her phone and listened with the tip of her tongue lodged in the corner of her mouth. She shook her head at him and mouthed, “Nothing.”

  When she finished listening to the voice mail, she said, “The police found the stolen car abandoned in San Jose, no prints. Agent Porter put in a request for MI6 to look into the whereabouts of Andrew. That’s all they have. No news on Marten.”

  “Are you going to tell Porter about the key Marten left you?”

  “No. I have a feeling if I gave the key to him, it would disappear into the black hole of this noninvestigation.” Her eyebrows formed a V over her nose. “Unless you think I should.”

  “They don’t know what we know, and they don’t believe what I believe. They’re not going to take it as seriously as I do, but I’m not going to tell you not to contact them with what you have and suspect.”

  “Suspect.” She skimmed a hand through her dark hair, somehow making messy look chic. “That’s the key word, isn’t it? I don’t even have the video of Andrew tied to that chair.” She covered her eyes with one hand. “Andrew asked me for help in that video, and I haven’t been able to do a damn thing.”

  He put a tentative hand on her back. “That’s not true. Porter just said MI6 is going to track down Andrew. You’re doing everything you can, Hailey.”

  “I did try calling him, but there’s no answer and no opportunity to leave a voice mail. I just wish I could do more.”

  “You can’t save the world, even with all your father’s money.”

  “I can give it a try.” She pointed her phone up the street. “Our car is coming.”

  Twenty minutes later the car dropped them off on Pacific Avenue in front of Hailey’s father’s house.

  Hailey trod up the stairs ahead of him, her steps heavy. Joe wanted to solve this mystery to clear Major Denver, but now he had another motive—to protect Hailey.

  As they turned toward the last few steps to the porch, a woman rose from behind the bushes and raised a hand clutching a gun toward Hailey.

  Joe’s reflexes kicked into high gear. He threw himself between Hailey and the dark-haired woman, grabbing the woman’s proffered hand and twisting it behind her back.

  As the woman screamed, Hailey yelled behind him, “Joe, stop. That’s Ayala.”

  Chapter Seven

  Hailey grabbed a handful of Joe’s jacket, trying to pull him off Ayala. Had he gone insane?

  He stepped back, releasing his hold on her friend. “God, I’m so sorry. I thought you had a gun in your hand.”

  Ayala, her dark eyes wide and glassy, pointed to the rolled-up umbrella she’d dropped to the ground. “I-it’s an umbrella.”

  “Are you all right? Did I hurt your arm?” Joe swept up the umbrella from the porch and handed it to Ayala.

  Ayala smoothed one hand over her skirt, shooting a gaze at Hailey over Joe’s broad shoulder. “I’m fine.”

  Hailey scooted around Joe and hugged the nurse. “I’m so sorry, Ayala. What are you doing here?”

  “Heard you were having a fund-raiser. How could I miss it?” Her eyes shifted toward Joe as she folded her arms, clamping
her umbrella to her chest.

  “I thought you couldn’t make it, but I’m glad you did. I sent you an email yesterday. Did you get it?”

  “I’m sorry. I just have my cell phone with me, and I hate reading emails on my phone. Wh-who’s your friend?”

  “Ayala, this is Joe McVie. Joe, this is Ayala Khan, the nurse who worked with me at the refugee camp.”

  Joe stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you. I feel like an idiot.”

  Ayala’s lips turned up in a quick smile as she clasped Joe’s hand briefly with her own and then shoved hers in the pocket of her coat. “I’m fine, really, even though it’s not the greeting I expected.”

  “Of course not.” Hailey chuckled. “We’re a little on edge here.”

  Joe poked Hailey in the back, and she straightened her shoulders. Did he think she was going to keep all of this from someone who could be in the direct line of fire? “Come on in, Ayala. How long have you been waiting out here and why didn’t you call me?”

  “It was all last-minute. I went home to Florida first, and I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t realize what a stupid idea that was until I landed on your porch and you didn’t answer the door.”

  “But you knew I’d be in town because of the gala.” Hailey pushed open the front door and ushered Ayala inside while scowling at Joe.

  He made his fingers into a gun and placed his index finger against his temple before scooping up Ayala’s bags and following them into the house.

  “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Juice? Tea?”

  Ayala tilted her head back and spun around the room. “Wow, this is some place you have here.”

  “Full disclosure.” Hailey held up two fingers. “Not mine.”

  “I know it’s your father’s. Still, it’s a fancy place to crash.” Ayala waved her hands. “Not that I’m crashing here. I was just getting ready to call a few hotels when you came home.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. The house is huge. I think I can find a spare bedroom or two for you to occupy.”

  “I don’t want to—” Ayala nodded at Joe, who was stacking her bags in the corner of the room “—intrude.”

  “Joe’s just a friend. He’s staying at a hotel.” She didn’t even sound convincing to her own ears.

  Joe finally finished his task, which he’d obviously drawn out to give her and Ayala a chance to talk, and brushed his hands together. “Did I hear my name? Not calling the cops on me, are you?”

  “Oh, please. It’s already forgotten.” Ayala tipped her head to one side. “It’s clear you were trying to protect Hailey. Does she need it?”

  Hailey cleared her throat. “How about that tea?”

  “Thanks. I’d like some.” Ayala patted her purse. “I can also get on the phone to a hotel and book myself a room.”

  “Don’t say another word about that. We’ll work out a fair trade.” Hailey flicked her fingers in Joe’s direction. “Just ask Joe about that.”

  “Uh-oh. What am I getting myself into?” Ayala’s gaze darted between her and Joe.

  “You always speak so passionately on behalf of the refugees.” Hailey made a move toward the kitchen and crooked her finger at Ayala. “I’m hoping you can give a speech at the fund-raiser. Nothing long, just a little recap of the work you do there.”

  Ayala trailed after her into the kitchen. “You mean the work you do. It’s money from people like you and your guests that keep things moving there. Don’t expect me to stand up and toot my own horn.”

  “Anything you want to say, just talk about the work that needs to be done to get them to open their wallets and checkbooks.” Hailey reached into the cupboard for two cups and called into the other room, “Joe, would you like some tea?”

  “I’m all tea-ed out, thanks.”

  Ayala sidled up next to Hailey at the counter and nudged her with a sharp elbow. “If he’s not taken, do you mind if I try my luck? He’s hot.”

  “Oh.” Speaking of hot, Hailey’s cheeks flamed. “Y-you—Sure, if you want.”

  Ayala raised one dark brow. “So that’s how it is. You’re not fooling me, Hailey Duvall. You might be calling him a friend today, but you want more tomorrow. Am I right?”

  “Well, you said it.” Hailey winked. “He is hot.”

  “Where and how did you meet him? Is he military?”

  “How’d you guess that?” Hailey shoved the teakettle beneath the faucet and filled it half-full.

  “The way he carries himself, his clipped manner of speaking. Don’t forget, I’ve been around plenty of American servicemen.”

  “He’s Delta Force.”

  Ayala’s eyes flickered.

  Did she remember that Major Denver was Delta Force?

  “Is he someone you met in Syria?”

  “No.” Hailey cranked on the burner and then turned to face Ayala, taking her arm. “We’ll explain everything to you—together. It’s been a crazy few days, and I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you here.”

  Joe straddled a stool at the center island in the kitchen. “Maybe Ayala wants to freshen up a little.”

  “Great idea.” Ayala drummed her fingers on the counter as she swept out of the kitchen.

  Hailey hissed. “That was rude. What was that about?”

  “Do you really think we should tell her everything that’s been going on?”

  “Why not? She’s involved in it as much as I am—more, as she’s still working at the refugee camp.”

  “Giving her knowledge could put her in danger.”

  Hailey jumped as the kettle whistled. She grabbed the handle and poured the boiling water over the tea bags in the two cups. “The way I see it, she’s already in danger, Joe. Telling her everything just might give her a chance to stay safe. If anything happened to her and I had neglected to give her the 411 about Marten and Andrew, I’d never forgive myself.”

  Ayala suddenly appeared at the entrance to the kitchen. “Oh, no. Hailey has a hard time forgiving herself for a lot of imagined infractions. I wouldn’t want to pile on.” She perched on the stool next to Joe’s, crossing one leg over the other and swinging it back and forth. “You’d better tell me everything.”

  Hailey placed a cup in front of Ayala. “It all started with a call from Marten de Becker.”

  Hailey told Ayala about everything that had gone on the past few days—except that she’d become dependent on Joe McVie as her savior and bodyguard. Ayala had already figured that out anyway.

  As Hailey came to the end of her story, she fished Marten’s key from the front pocket of her jeans and slid it across the counter. “Here’s the key Marten’s friend gave me, but I have no idea what it unlocks. Any ideas?”

  Ayala picked up the key and turned it over, running her thumb over the cardboard key chain. “Mis? Could it be someone’s name?”

  Joe spoke up. “That’s what I thought.”

  “It looks old.” Ayala bounced the key in the palm of her hand. “What could Marten have been into? This could all just be about his shady lifestyle, his gambling, his women.”

  “Maybe, but what about the video of Andrew?”

  Ayala shivered and tipped her hand over, dropping the key on the counter. “That’s horrible. The only thing I have going for me is that I never ID’d Major Rex Denver as one of the men who held us, and I’m not writing an article about the incident.”

  “Is that what Andrew is doing?” Hailey wrapped her hands around the cup, warming them. “That’s probably why these guys got to him. They probably don’t want any further attention focused on the bombing in case Andrew brings more information to light about Denver.”

  “Then why you?” Ayala touched Hailey’s hand. “All you did was bring up the fact that one of our kidnappers spoke French with an American accent and someone called him Denver, which I completely missed. You aren’t changing th
at story...are you?”

  “I have no reason to change it.”

  Joe folded his hands together and hunched forward on the counter, resting on his forearms. “We’re beginning to think the people involved are tracking Hailey because Marten reached out to her—or tried to reach out to her.”

  “Then maybe you should just forget about Marten, Hailey. I know that sounds callous, but you can’t help him now.” Ayala traced the edge of the key on the counter. “Toss this out and forget about everything. If someone is framing Major Denver, let the US Army figure it out.” She shot a quick glance at Joe. “Sorry.”

  “No need to apologize to me.” Joe rubbed his knuckles across the stubble on his chin. “I agree with you. The US Army needs to be doing everything in its power to investigate the matter as a setup, and there’s more and more evidence leaking out that it was a setup.”

  “Where is Denver?” Ayala raised her cup to her lips, her dark eyes watching Joe over the rim.

  “Nobody knows. He went AWOL after a meeting he’d arranged with an informant went south.”

  “In Afghanistan?”

  “Yes.”

  Ayala carefully wiped her lipstick from the cup with the edge of her thumb. “Maybe he’s already dead.”

  “I don’t believe that.” Joe’s hands curled into fists against the granite.

  “Again, I’m sorry. I know you’re concerned about your Delta Force commander, but I’m concerned about my friend.”

  “I’m concerned about Hailey, too. I don’t want her mixed up with this, and I’m not expecting her to go to bat for Denver.”

  Hailey waved. “Hello. I’m standing right here. Neither one of you needs to be worried about me. And I’m not going to forget about Marten, Andrew, Denver or any of them.”

  Joe’s and Ayala’s eyes met, and they said in unison, “Do-gooder.”

  “Now you’re ganging up on me, but I’m serious.” She put her cup in the sink and turned toward Ayala. “Do you want more tea, or would you like to get settled in a room upstairs?”